


Travels

by Songofpsalms297



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 09:10:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12627696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Songofpsalms297/pseuds/Songofpsalms297
Summary: On the way home from the Winter Palace.





	Travels

**Author's Note:**

> Oh dear! This story has had serious work done. It might be a bit sore for a few days! 
> 
> Edited and Updated.

He wheedles like a child. She doesn't say it but she is fairly certain he knows that this game they play amuses her too.

It begins as a diversion for them both, on their way back from the disaster at the Winter Palace. Cassandra understands the why of the Inquisitor's choices, but she doesn't have to agree with them. And does not.

Returning to their quarters in a carriage shared with Bull and Dorian, the questions begin. Less questions and more teasing demands.

Oddly enough, he isn't the first to begin her ... interrogation.

With a sly smile and a comfortable arm around his Tevene paramour, The Iron Bull settles them more comfortably in a corner, sore leg raised on the cushion. While Dorian leans against Bull's broad chest, a smile of serene contentment graces his lips while he reclines between the larger man's splayed legs. Both looking for all the world, like cats and now empty bowls of cream, satisfied and secure now in their romance.

An unintended sigh escapes her. She'd long since understood there would be no romance for her. She would continue to read her novels, and that would have to satisfy her. She would, however, continue to celebrate her friends' romances. Shifting in her seat, she notices the thoughtful glint in Bull's eye and doesn’t like it.

Varric sits beside her, as Bull and Dorian snuggle on the other side of their carriage. She glances at Varric with a bit of asperity. He'd managed to produce some parchment, ink, and quill from somewhere within his uniform. How he manages to have access to writing implements at all times might be his greatest trick yet.

Her face begins to flush as she contemplates just where he may have had them stashed tonight. It was obvious he had smuggled them into and out of the Winter Palace as a couple of the sheets had already bore evidence of his writing. She noticed his distinctive style of handwriting, as he pulled his things out mumbling notes to himself. This process of his was one she’d become familiar with on their journey from Kirkwall to Haven. Her heart hitches with familiar warmth at the sight. She shoves her fisted hands in her armpits to fight the itch to brush the strands of hair dangling over his brow that have escaped their trap.  He was currently scribbling away, recording every detail from his memory and once again, she is surprised how neatly he can write as their carriage bangs along the road.

"Seeker," Bull purrs from his position, arm draped protectively over his Tevinter lover's chest. Ever the warrior, her battle senses wake, without conscious thought she prepares for the onslaught. Irritation at herself for feeling this way amongst the friends - dare she call them family? - she has battled side by side with over the last months, makes her voice shorter and more clipped than usual. Dorian snores softly against Bull’s chest, his face in repose reflecting the true aspect of his heart. The fierce desire to protect Dorian from harm doesn’t take her by surprise anymore.  In her heart, he is just as much a brother as her own brother was, but there is something about the Tevene mage that calls out for someone to guard him, and without deciding to, her heart has welcomed him in. Truly, if she were to look closer, they have all become anchors in her world. People to love, fight for, smirk curls her lip, glancing at the writer scritching ink along the parchment, and fight with. Varric looks up from his writing as her tension ripples over him like water. She quickly smothers her smile, tension returning full force, and shifts to look out her window. Equal parts confused and concern, Varric quirks his brow in Bull's direction.

Bull smirks at them both. If they could see what he could, they'd shit themselves in denial. He can't stop the rumble of laughter, but he tries to mute it so it comes out as a purr rather than mockery. He'd rather they thought he was subconsciously purring in contentment. Which, definitely could be the case, Dorian's sweet face slack in hopefully pleasant dreams. Her clipped response brought him out of his brief fantasy of a future home shared with his beloved mage.

Mindful of Dorian's soft snores, and feeling the relentless gaze of a smug former Ben-Hassrath, Cassandra kept her reply low. She hissed, "What?" Amused, he released the chuckle he couldn't hope to repress.

An answering laugh came from Varric, and true to form, Cassandra turned her ire on the dwarf. He raised a hand in surrender, the other holding fast to his writing implements. Deciding to save his friend from his other friend's misplaced fury, Bull pulled her attention to himself again.

"I got the distinct impression that you have more names that follow between “Filomena” and "Pentaghast". Just how many more names do you have, Cassandra?"

Her response confirmed his suspicions. She drew herself even more tightly closed, and shifted her furious gaze to the window. Her eyes tracing the horizon for the faintest kiss of dawn.

Amidst Bull's rumbling laughter, she feels Varric shift toward her. She doesn't intend to, but her body almost automatically shifts toward him in response. Patience will never be one of her virtues, her voice cuts the silence. "What is it, Varric?"

He smirks at her peeved tone, "Inquiring minds want to know, Seeker. How many names come between Filomena, and Pentaghast?"

His chuckle becomes a wheezy laugh when her elbow meets his ribcage. Merry eyes meet hers when she responds, "You will find out, Dwarf, over my dead body." Her harrumph is buried under the chuckles of her companions, the rumble of their carriage over the road, and Dorian's soft contented snores. She smiles knowing his insatiable curiosity will drive him to pester her until she gives in and tells him all of her names.


End file.
